


The Dragon and The Sword

by OMGitsgreen



Series: The Tales and Dreams of Dragons [6]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Abi was basically a badass, Angst, Gen, Headcanon, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reincarnation, Swordfighting, The Original Four Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGitsgreen/pseuds/OMGitsgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Abi would one day wonder if that was true, how different his life might have been if he had just taken up the burden of being the next Head. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision." A story of the adolescence Abi, the Original Blue Dragon, who struggles with not only the fate of being born within his clan, but also with the monster born of the way of the sword. An If The Sky Could Dream side story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon and The Sword

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve had this nagging thought that I didn’t understand why Abi would have a sword in the storytelling segment of Akatsuki no Yona, and yet not use a word at all. This ended up being a pretty in-depth character analysis of Abi, and it paralleled Shin-ah’s own struggles evenly. It is also 100% ITSCD compliant and is considered a side-story to the fic and somewhat of an extention to the prologue.

_"Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power."_  
-Lao Tzu

 

Abi’s father was a master, as had been his own father, and his father before him for ten generations. They were a line of swordsmen, who lived in a bustling city that would one day become the capitol of the Earth Tribe, with a dojo that men came from around Kouka to study the way of the sword at. Abi had been born into this family of men as cold as metal, of those who lived their lives dedicated to the art and way of the sword with little use for warmth or pleasantries. They were the main branch of the clan, and as main branch members both sons were expected to become masters of the sword. But his elder brother Jun, who was four years older than Abi, and appeared to be more outgoing and more athletic. Jun was personable too, a natural teacher, a good choice for an heir to the family name in his own right.

And that was what Jun had thought too, until Abi began his training at the young age of six. 

He realized it as Jun watched the child begin to swing the bokken in a perfect precise manner, picking up the techniques his father demonstrated flawlessly. His father, he knew, just thought of it as his brother’s beginner luck and probably didn’t notice. But Jun realized it before anyone else as he watched his brother correct his hips and change the stance of his feet minutely to better emulate their father naturally. His younger brother could learn things by just being shown once, his brother had naturally reproduced everything their father was doing and was reproducing it in his own swordplay. With those eyes of his, Jun thought, he could achieve things that just by hard work alone one could never get.

Jun realized that this wasn’t just skill. Abi was a prodigy.

This was the beginning of a grudge.

* * *

The rest of the clan soon figured out the dark secret which Jun had unlocked, but Abi didn’t really particularly care. Abi had the way of the sword, the ultimate dedication to its secret arts. When he was twelve and his brother was sixteen his father approached Abi about becoming the next clan head, Abi had shaken his head resolutely and rejected that offer.

“No, Father,” Abi said as he bowed his head respectfully, “Name Jun the heir to the family name.”

“Why? You are more skilled then Jun can ever dream of becoming. When you grow older, you will become more skilled then I. You are the only one who can take the name of Head.”

“I have different ambitions, Father.” Abi said, “I wish to become the greatest swordsman in the world. I cannot do that if I am bound here. And besides, the rest of the clan will prosper under Jun’s direction. Please, name him the next Head.”

“I understand, I will name Jun next Head and begin his preparations. Just know, that I think you are making a mistake.”

Abi would one day wonder if that was true, how different his life might have been if he had just taken up the burden of being the next Head. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision.

* * *

By eighteen no one could hope to defeat Abi in a spar. He was fast and agile and ruthless, one could say his moves also beautiful. He fought as if dancing, gliding over the floor as weightless as fog. In an elegant precise way he cut down his enemies. And more importantly he could see in his opponent’s bodies their intended movements, in their faces their moments of weakness. Those eyes of his even could take their movements and make them his own. 

No matter who it was he was facing, they always ended up on the floor before him defeated. Abi had begun to grow bored. How could he become the greatest swordsman in Kouka if he was bound to the practice arena? It was at that moment, inside of him, a great hole had begun to form. It ate away at him, leaving him a vessel that could no longer be filled by just the art of swordsmanship. Abi forgot what his own smile felt like, as he was sure he was meant to wither away without ever being able to prove his skills.

It was then, one night in the spring as the persimmon trees in the courtyard had just begun to bloom, a group of thieves decided to raid the clan’s complex. Abi, who had been awake admiring the blooms, took the sword at his side and met the intruders himself.

He cut down all in his way. Their movements were so sluggish, so untrained and he could read them all. Killing them was as easy as plucking flowers as he rent their bodies with the blade of his sword, leaving them gurgling and spilling blood onto the grass and dyeing it red. And he loved it, he loved every second because this was true battle. Having an actual enemy appear before him, and being able to bring them to their knees was so exhilarating that he never wanted it to end. This was what was supposed to fill that emptiness inside him. This was it! He began to laugh because he was so happy, he had never felt so happy before in his entire life-

_“Wah…what happened?”_

The voice of his father broke his reverie. Abi blinked, as if awakening from a dream and caught a glimpse of a reflection in the koi pool.

Who was that? Abi thought absently. Who was that with robes splattered red and dripping with blood? Who was that with a vicious smile stretched across his face? Who was that with eyes so filled with bloodlust?

Abi pried his suddenly numb fingers from the hilt of his sword and saw that they were absolutely drenched in blood. Everything was covered in blood and gore and he had done this-

He dropped to his knees and retched whatever was in his stomach onto the ground.

* * *

Abi gave up the sword, and promised himself he would never touch a blade again. He had realized that a monster had been born from that great hole inside of him and if he ever gave into the bloodlust that dwelled within him, the consequences would be terrible. Abi had decided that the only way to save his soul, which was so tainted by the darkness, was to live a life of penance. The news of a new red-haired king rising in the capitol meant nothing to him as he prepared his things. Abi brought his sword too, but bound it within its sheath as a reminder of the heavy burden he carried. 

Abi left the complex and the capitol in the middle of the night and began to walk. Abi truly had no destination, but he had decided that maybe if he went to the Temple in the Mountains, the oracles who dwelled there and the Gods could guide him. As he walked, he lay under the stars and absorbed their beauty, he lived off the land, but still felt restless and his fingers itched for the hilt of his blade.  
He gained company, a little blue bird which had been attacked. Feeling compelled to help, he carried it along and fed it, letting it heal until it was well enough to fly. However when he let it go he found the bird followed him upon the tree branches as he walked, and eventually came to settle at his shoulder. The more he cared for the bird, the less he thought of the blade which called him. By the time he reached the Temple in the Mountains, the blade’s call had become a whisper, and he thought himself prepared for whatever journey the Gods wished for him.

He wasn’t prepared for a Blue Dragon to emerge from the sky above.

* * *

“A Dragon Warrior?” Abi asked alarmed, the blade on his back feeling heavier than ever. “No. No, I cannot become your warrior. I am corrupted by bloodlust, and should I ever feed that desire I have within me, I do not know what I would become.”

“Then I shall not make you a warrior who fights with arms.” The Blue Dragon said, his amber eyes glowing and his voice booming like thunder, “Those eyes of yours remind me of my own, which pierce your enemies. I shall make those your weapons. If you wish as fervently as you do for a path to follow, take this one. Use your power for the good of humanity.”

“If a sinful man like me can do good for humanity, then I shall accept your offer. Please, give me your blood and allow me to become a Dragon Warrior.” 

And so another story began.


End file.
